See Saw

A few days ago I tried to find the website that I originally used to sign up for my university degree, as I wanted to know the exact amount that I would have to pay. I remembered that it was somewhere around 3000,- Euroes for two years, but I wanted to be sure. I entered a number of searches and couldn’t find the website. Then I checked through my bookmarks and my e-mail and found the link. I clicked on it. It led nowhere.

The link was dead.

Alarmed I started searching for other websites about the research master I had just subscribed to. I soon found one, but there was one significant difference. The cost was 5000,- Euroes per year.

There was, of course, no way that I could possibly pay that amount. With my heart hammering in my chest I contacted the university and asked how much I would have to pay. ‘5000,-’ they informed me. I explained what had happened and the lady at the other end of the phone said, ‘well, the best thing you can do is write to the head of the department. There’s no guarantee, but he’s in charge of scholarships and finances.’

I wrote the man a letter in which I explained my predicament. I wrote emotionally, honestly, and frankly. I admitted my mistakes (it was quite a list) and then admitted that if I didn’t get any help, all my hard work would be undone.

I didn’t snivel; but it did come quite close to begging (in a face-saving manner, mind you).

Then I left for the city and wandered around in a daze. I pretty much admitted defeat. I said, ‘if they can’t help me. Well, then obviously it wasn’t meant to be. I will accept my fate and postpone my studies by a year.’

That night I came back (I watched ‘The Dark Knight’ to console myself) and I checked my e-mail. I’d already received a response and the response amounted to a 2500,- Euro scholarship.

I literally punched the air (something I thought was only a literary device, until then) and did a little jig. They’d kindly placed the study within reach again.

When I told a friend what had happened she said, ‘well, they must be really desperate for students’. I retorted, ‘maybe they’re just really desperate for me!’

‘Maybe,’ my sister said later, ‘it’s a little bit of both. Maybe they’re desperate for high quality students, which means they’re desperate for you.’

I liked that interpretation.